


Talking Cat...(mostly) Normal Tuesday

by SilverButterfly111



Series: Jinx (The Misadventures of one Thackery Binx and Jack Frost) [1]
Category: Hocus Pocus (1993), Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Gen, Jack isn't crazy, You can't change my mind, it's not fair!, my lonely children, they're friends - Freeform, why does eveyone have to wait 300 years to get what they want?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-26
Updated: 2019-10-26
Packaged: 2021-01-03 10:40:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21178058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilverButterfly111/pseuds/SilverButterfly111
Summary: Jack meets a talking cat in the middle of the woods in Salem Massachusetts.Jack has a lot more in common with said creature then he knows...or will know for a long time.





	Talking Cat...(mostly) Normal Tuesday

_ **November 12th, 1793** _

Jack knocked on the cottage door out of habit. Not that it was entirely necessary. The place looked like it hadn't seen a human occupant in years- decades- a century. It wasn't like he had to get into the house. He'd be perfectly fine wandering around in the woods. He was just curious. And well, as the saying went. Curiosity killed the cat.

Jack thought the idiom and chuckled gently when the universe presents him with such a creature.

A black one- Of all the irony- 

"Hey there little guy, what are you doing out here? Are you lost?" Jack crouched down in the November leaves scattered across the ground. The cat doesn't seem impressed by the peace-making gesture.

"Guess you're not used to people either." Jack whispered. Trying to hide the oddly sharp sting of disappointment in wake of rejection from yet another creature.

Animals usually have a better time seeing him then people do; but most tend to leave him alone once they've made sure he's not a threat.

The cat twitched an ear.

"You don't talk much do you?" Jack teased. Entirely. Completely joking. Which is why screaming is a perfectly normal reaction when the cat talked back.

"My talking tends to throw people off."

Jack blinked and sputtered. Falling backward into the leaves with a yelp. Lifting his head to glare at the cat who seemed entirely unapologetic about having caused Jack a heart attack.

He looked more amused than anything.

"Much like that, yes." The talking cat nods as though Jack had proved a point. Though he wasn't sure he had.

"You talked!" Jack exclaimed.

"Yes."

"You can see me?"

If cats could roll eyes. "You have an obnoxiously bright aura."

"I'm going crazy."

"No."

Jack thinks he can hear a purr in the cat's last objection and he knows he's being laughed at.

"Can all cats talk? Because if so I think a great many of you have been very rude to me. Not speak-"

"Not all of us can talk...and I'm not a cat…"

Jack raised an eyebrow at that. Perhaps it's not him going crazy but the creature in front of him.

"Uh- last I checked-"

The cat hissed. Tail lashing back and forth as it paced toward him. Jack took the hint and shut up.

"I am a human. I _ was _a human!" The cat paused and stared at Jack. "Quick, do you know what year it is?"

Jack blinked. Unsure why the year mattered.

"Seventeen-ninety-three."

The fur on the back of the cat's neck seemed to settle somewhat.

"Good. There's still time. Time to stop them."

"Stop what? Who?" Jack asked. Confused and searching for a rock hidden among the leaves. Maybe he hit his head.

"Never you mind that," Green eyes shrank to slits despite the darkness of the woods. "What are you doing here?"

"...Um, nothing? Besides freaking out over a talking cat. Exploring an abandoned house in the woods. Y'know," Jack stood up and took a step toward the house. "Normal Tuesday."

The cat disagreed. Jack yelped as his feet were knocked out from underneath him- an impressive feat for anything to accomplish considering his natural balance and usual aide from the wind.

"I can't let you go inside!" Jack's remaining air flees his lungs and he lifts his head to find the black-furred menace sitting on his chest. Claws digging past fabric and into skin.

"I did knock." Jack manages a sarcastic retort though his words come out as a wheeze.

"To Hell with your knocking!" The cat snarls. "It's a witches' cottage you imbecile!" Jack goes still. Pushing his head back into the dirt and leaves to look at the building upside down. "I'm guarding it."

Jack looks back at the creature on his chest.

"Are you a witch familiar then?"

It's the wrong thing to say.

The cat yowls, arching its back and pushes claws deep enough into the skin of his chest to make Jack flinch. Somewhere off in the distance from the trees that mark the village they hear a dog barking.

"I'm cursed!" The cat's voice sounds equal parts rage and despair.

"I have guarded this place for a century and shall do it two centuries more! You don't understand what that's like! No one comes, the townspeople know what happened here, they know and they left me alone!" The cat's eyes gleamed with a fire.

"They took my sister from me, those monsters! They cursed me!"

The cat was trembling now.

"...People throw stones at me...the ones who don't ignore me... I wish I couldn't be seen…"

Jack could think of little else to do.

He reached out to gently scratch the cat between the ears. Frowning when the human-turned-animal flinched at the gentle touch. Laughter floating out of him. Bitter like the November wind but laughter nonetheless.

"You and I have opposite problems my friend."

The cat curled up on his chest. Finally relaxing enough to close his eyes against Jack's touch.

"It's been a long time…"

"Since they took your sister?" Jack guessed.

"Yes, that," The cat opened one eye and closed it again. Like Jack would fade into thin air if he looked away too long. "But also since I had a friend."

"Yeah me too." Jack admitted. Not sure if he should smile or cry, his own voice growing distant.

"How long?"

"Eighty-one years." Jack whispered.

"But who's counting?"

"Every second." Jack admitted.

The cat opened its eyes and it's only then that Jack realizes he's stopped petting him.

"Do you have a name?" Jack asked. "One you remember, or one I could call you?"

"Thackery. Thackery Binx." 

Jack can't suppress a snicker or a comment in time. Another saying of old habits die hard.

"Thackery? What kind of name is that?"

He gets smacked on the side of the head by a paw for his jest; though Thackey has his claws sheathed and the growl Jack can feel building in the feline's chest isn't half as angry as it could be.

"Mine." Thackery answers. Lifting his chin to glare down at Jack. The winter spirit takes the opportunity to scratch underneath the chin as a peace offering.

"Mine's Jack, Jack Frost."


End file.
